On the Road Again

Traveling with six dudes and one woman up the Northwest is intense linguistically. We are forced to make, and then catch up to, a constant barrage of obscure language in order to defeat boredom and sense.

"That's lots tired"
"And by tired, I mean tight."
"'Hey... whatever'!"
"'Hey... whatever'!"
"Knock, knock"
"Who's there?"
"911."
"911, who?"
"Dude, I thought you said you'd never forget"

"Knock, knock"
"Who's there?"
"Whale 911."
"Whale 911 who?"
"hehehehehehehehe"
..........................................

You visit this language on unsuspecting audiences in the form of music, on streets or floors of clubs that smell like frier grease. The further out you get, the less the audience understands. It's much worse if you try to talk to them.